


why can i not conquer love?

by sxldato



Category: Political Animals
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Closeted Character, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Substance Abuse, Mentions of attempted suicide, Panic Attacks, and should be protected at all costs, fun fact if you get angry enough you can get a panic attack, thank god for douglas hammond tbh, that wasn't very fun was it, tj is a precious sunflower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:38:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3195605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sxldato/pseuds/sxldato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the events of the first (and only) season, TJ and Sean run into each other again. <br/>TJ's feelings are all over the place. Sean tries to make up for his mistakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	why can i not conquer love?

**Author's Note:**

> tj hammond ugh be still my heart  
> i don't think anybody cares about this show anymore so this is mostly just for me and also for the one friend of mine who i made watch this show, and now i'm making him read my fic  
> a part of me wishes that sean and tj could make amends, but i've been in a situation like tj's-- where somebody who wanted to be with me wasn't out, and our relationship was really detrimental because i had no power at all-- and i know how hard it is to fix something like that.   
> a big part of manipulation is doubting yourself and whether you made the right choice in cutting that harmful person out of your life, because you doubt whether or not they were really harming you at all or if you were just being dumb. and i think tj would feel that twofold because let's be real, this kid screws up a LOT.   
> anyways that's it i think. slightly beta'd.   
> title from Elastic Heart by Sia

There were a lot of questions that TJ wanted answered. Why _he_ of all people was in DC was one of them. Another was who the _fuck_ he thought he was, coming here and acting like he had no history here, like he had no secrets. Who did something like that? Who went back to a place where their worst mistakes had been made?

TJ played with the idea that maybe he hadn’t seen it as a mistake, but scrapped that thought almost as soon as he’d come up with it. He could still hear the words in his head, the look on his face when he’d pulled away from him.

It was hard, being told you were nothing by the person who meant the whole world to you.

“TJ?”

He’d know that voice anywhere, and he hated himself for remembering it so well. And did he flinch? He did, he totally did, and the butterflies that he’d thought he’d suffocated with cocaine were resurrecting in his stomach. Jesus Christ, he was a mess. This wasn’t fucking high school anymore, and he needed to pull himself together and act like the adult he was. He was a mature grown-up, and he could handle this situation with diplomacy.

TJ turned around, prepared to respond in a way that wouldn’t disappoint his mama, but then he saw his face, and--

“Stay the _fuck_ away from me, Sean.”

Well, at least he’d tried.

“TJ, please, I just want to talk—“

“No, no, you wouldn’t want to keep your wife waiting, right? Or do you have her holed up in some expensive hotel, not knowing when you’ll come back, while you go around sleeping in other men’s beds?” He’d never thought he’d be taking the wife’s side of the argument, especially since _he_ was the one responsible for making her husband unfaithful, but he decided to cut himself some slack. It was only _half_ his fault.

The more he vented his anger, the more it built up inside him. He was going to explode right here on the street in front of everyone, and he was so furious, so ashamed of himself that he was letting this control him, that he didn’t even care.

“TJ, you need to calm down.”

That had been the wrong thing to say. It took all TJ’s willpower not to swing a punch at Sean’s face. The last thing he needed was for a leech that called itself a reporter getting word of this and printing another goddamn newspaper article about his ‘troubled life,’ or whatever the hell they were calling it nowadays.

This was no life. After brushing death’s fingertips _twice_ in less than a year, all this could only be a mess of his mistakes coming back to kick his ass. Repercussions. That feeling he got after he came down from a high and he felt worse than he did before—that was what this was. A string of lows, one after the other. Half the time, he felt like he was wading through molasses. Maybe one day, he’d get better, but it was one hell of a journey and his legs were getting tired.

He didn’t think he said anything; maybe he’d managed a weak “fuck you,” but he wasn’t sure. The next thing he was fully aware of was being sat down on a park bench and being told that he needed to breathe.

Breathing. He could do that.

He remembered one time where he tried to make himself stop.

“—an ambulance? I don’t know what to do, or if you need paramedics, or—“

“Just shut up,” TJ wheezed, gripping the edge of the bench while he forced himself to inhale and exhale. “You’re not taking me to a hospital. I’ve been there because of you enough times already.”

All the fight seemed to go out of Sean at those words. “What are you talking about?”

Sean wouldn’t leak this to the press. It would mean outing himself, too. That was one good thing about closeted men, TJ thought; they were good at keeping your secrets.

“It was all true,” he muttered. “That column they wrote—“

“You told me it was a rumor.”

“Well, I fucking lied to you!” The effort it took to raise his voice caused his already tightened lungs to constrict further.

“Okay, I’m sorry, please stop shouting.”

“I can shout if I want to!”

“You’re making it harder for yourself to breathe.” Sean’s hand was on his chest and TJ felt tears prick in the corners of his eyes. “You can shout as much as you want once you can breathe again.”

They stayed like that for a while, TJ caught between fury and gratitude. He knew Sean was trying to make up for his mistakes, but he wasn’t sure that he had it in himself to forgive.

When his chest no longer ached, he was too worn out to yell. There were so many things he wanted to say, but what came out was, “You didn’t come to my nightclub.”

His mama did not raise him to be this pathetic. Maybe this came from his father. They both had a talent of infidelity, as well as guiding others down a path of faithlessness as they laid them down onto their respective beds.

Sean looked incredibly guilty, which stirred up a strange feeling of satisfaction. “I should have told you I wasn’t coming.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Sean ran a hand through his hair. “I thought it would be a bad idea. I didn’t want you getting your hopes up, thinking we were… going to be something again.”

TJ scoffed. “C’mon, give me some credit.”

“Then why were you so upset that I didn’t come?”

Fuck. He had never been a good liar, not like his father. He laughed hoarsely and rested his elbows on his knees, cradling his head in his hands. “You got me there, I guess.”

“TJ…”

“I screwed up, I get it,” he continued, feeling impossibly weak and even more so ashamed. “You wouldn’t be the first person to tell me that.”

“I was actually going to apologize.”

TJ’s breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t trust himself to.

“I’m guessing the, uh, the suicide attempt last December… that was my fault, too?”

“Not your fault,” TJ protested quietly. “Not directly. You just messed me up enough to make me want to do it.”

Sean’s eyes were bloodshot and watery.

“You’re not allowed to cry; don’t do it.”

“TJ, I’m so sorry,” Sean whispered. “I never meant to hurt you like that. I didn’t think…”

“You didn’t think I cared about you enough for it to matter?”

“I suppose so.”

“You know, for a congressman, you can be a real fucking idiot sometimes.”

Sean smiled, but it was sad, the way you smiled at a loved one who you knew was dying. Was that what TJ looked like to other people?

“I won’t expect you to believe I’m genuine about being sorry—“

“I believe you.”

“… You do?”

TJ sat back, taking a deep breath before he spoke. “Those things you said to me before you left… I know you didn’t mean them. You were angry and scared, and I shouldn’t have taken those words to heart. I should have known better.”

“No matter the circumstances, I shouldn’t have said those things in the first place,” Sean argued. “It doesn’t matter how I felt; I _hurt_ you.”

“… Yeah. Yeah, you did.” There was no denying that, no pretending that he’d pulled through alright. He’d fallen apart. He’d almost died—twice. And he wasn’t going to lie and say that Sean had nothing to do with it.

“I know it’s a long shot, but is there anything I can do? Anything to make this better?”

He was trying. TJ knew that, and he knew that he should be grateful. But most of him just felt frustrated and tired.

“Just one thing. If you can’t do it, I understand, but it would mean a lot if you did.”

“What is it?”

TJ got to his feet, wiping a hand over his face in an attempt to make himself look presentable. He couldn’t believe what he was about to do. “It’s like an anvil on your chest, isn’t it? Keeping it to yourself, looking over your shoulder at every turn? And you’re convinced that people can tell, and you don’t know what gives it away.”

“What are you talking about?” Sean was trying to sound confused, but the pallor of his face told TJ that he knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Just tell your wife, Sean. If you can’t do it for me, and if you can’t do it for you, then at least do it for her. She doesn’t deserve to be dragged along like this. You owe her this much, after everything that’s happened.”

Before Sean could say anything else, TJ had turned on his heel and began making his way down the street.

-

TJ was curled up on the couch, trying to pull himself together and failing miraculously, when Douglas walked through the front door. He saw the look on his brother’s face and wanted to disappear into the couch cushions.

Douglas dropped his briefcase by the door and started towards him the way one might approach a small, injured animal. “TJ, what happened?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” TJ had buried his head in between his knees, but he felt the cushions dip as Douglas sat beside him.

“Don’t pull that with me, I’ve known you for thirty years.” A pause, and then, “Did you relapse?”

Of course that would be Douglas’s first thought. “Wow, screw you, Douglas.”

“You can’t blame me for thinking that.” He still didn’t sound angry, only concerned. “Can you tell me what’s going on? Don’t make me keep guessing.”

He was going to cry if he talked about it, but Douglas had seen him far worse than this; if there was anybody he could break down in front of, it was his brother. He lifted his head and blinked back tears. “I… I saw Sean today, downtown.”

Douglas had a great talent of going from worried to furious in less than a second. “If he said something to hurt you, I swear I’m gonna find him and—“

“He apologized,” TJ said, clenching his jaw to stop his lower lip from quivering. “For everything.”

Douglas’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Then what…” Douglas trailed off as tears started slipping down TJ’s cheeks. “Hey, you’re okay, c’mon.” He shifted closer and brushed TJ’s hair out of his eyes. “Everything’s alright.”

TJ knew that his relationship with Sean had been toxic, and he tried to keep that in mind, but he’d always had a problem with being addicted to dangerous substances. It was hard not to go back, especially when Sean had made it seem like a possibility, but he couldn’t do it again. He had low expectations for himself, but he couldn’t disappoint Douglas or his mama anymore. He needed to be a whole person.

“I know I shouldn’t want to, not after all the shit he’s done, but sometimes I just…”

“I know,” Douglas said. “That’s how it works, TJ. Look at mom and dad.”

“Sean isn’t like dad,” TJ protested.

“They both hide, and they both screw over people they care about. Dad cheated on mom over and over, but she stayed because he promised he wouldn’t do it again. Isn’t Sean the same? He hurt you, over and over, and he’s always promising he won’t.”

“He didn’t _mean_ to hurt me—“

“He still did.” Douglas’s hand rested on TJ’s shoulder. “You can’t let him do it again. You have to break this cycle.”

TJ was quiet, wondering if he could trust himself to speak without bawling. His eyes were still watering and his face was streaked with tears; his throat felt tight and his chest hurt, promising a breakdown. “I love him,” he whispered. “I haven’t loved anybody else like this, and I’m not—“ He broke off, fighting the urge to sob. “I’m not sure I can let him go.”

“It’s not easy,” Douglas said gently. “It’s not supposed to be easy. But you’ll pull through. You’re tough.”

“I’m gonna screw up.”

“You can’t think like that or else you _will_ screw up. You don’t give yourself enough credit, TJ. Have a little faith in yourself. I do, and so does everyone else. That’s why we’re always so upset when you relapse; we never expect it to happen.”

“That’s your mistake. You can’t trust somebody so volatile.”

“You’re not volatile, you’re hurt,” Douglas insisted. “And I don’t want you to keep getting hurt. You deserve more than this, and you deserve better than him. You should be with someone who’s proud to love you, not someone who hides it.”

That was when TJ finally shattered. His body shook as he wept, and Douglas quickly pulled him close, holding him tight. TJ clutched Douglas’s jacket, afraid Douglas would let go too soon, afraid he’d be alone again, and he was so tired, so _fucking_ tired of being alone.

“It’s alright, TJ,” Douglas murmured, rubbing his back as he held him. “It’s gonna be okay.”

TJ wasn’t sure how long he cried, but eventually he wore himself out and all his tears were gone. He couldn’t cry anymore even if he wanted to, but he was sick of crying anyways.

“We’ll get you through this,” Douglas promised. “As long as it takes, no matter how hard it is.”

TJ only nodded, even though he wasn’t sure it was true, and pulled back, settling against the couch. “Douglas, I’m sorry—“

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

TJ’s shoulders slumped. He was always doing things wrong. It was nice, for once, to not have anyone angry with him.

“C’mon.” Douglas got to his feet. “I’ll make us some coffee, okay?”

TJ got up, curling his toes to gain some feeling in them, and trailed behind Douglas into the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> _Well, I've got thick skin and an elastic heart,_   
> _But your blade it might be too sharp_   
> _I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard,_   
> _I may snap and I move fast_   
> _But you won't see me fall apart_   
> _'Cause I've got an elastic heart_


End file.
